


Motivation

by connectknee



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Jealousy, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, idiots to lovers, very very silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:51:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21823360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/connectknee/pseuds/connectknee
Summary: Kevin knows when to back off, the article said. He knows just when to shut up and leave Patty alone, something Travis has never known how to do.
Relationships: Travis Konecny/Nolan Patrick
Comments: 66
Kudos: 697





	Motivation

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this whole thing on the train. Sorry to the woman sat beside me who almost certainly saw me typing the word dick multiple times. 
> 
> I fudged the timeline on the article coming out and TK's concussion but only by a couple of days because like ... everything happened at once! Can I get a fucking minute to breathe!
> 
> Title is from Normani's 'Motivation'.

Travis doesn't get what Patty's saying at first. 

“And his place is really big,” Patty's rambling. “And it's his first year here and he doesn't know anyone, so. I said I'd keep him company.” 

“Right,” Travis says, not listening. “Wait, what?”

Patty screws the lid tight on his vitamin water and then unscrews it again. He doesn't take a drink.

“I'm moving in with Kevin,” he says. “Didn't hear me the first time?”

It's kind of - nasty, actually. A mean tone that Travis doesn't hear from Patty that often, only when he's really stressed about something. He's stressed about a lot of stuff all the time now, though.

“No, I heard you,” Travis says, unable for a second to come up with anything more than that. “I just didn't, like – I thought you liked it here.” _With me_, he doesn't say. 

Patty shrugs, not meeting his eye. “It's fine,” he says. “Just, you know. Seemed like it might be fun.” 

“With Kevin.”

“With Kevin,” Patty confirms. 

“Okay,” Travis says, because what else can he say? He kind of feels like he's been punched in the stomach. This isn't what he imagined for this year, not at all. Maybe Patty feels like that too, it's just that hanging out with Travis all the time isn't what _he _imagined. Guess not. It's gonna take a minute to get used to that. 

“But we can still hang out, or whatever,” Patty mumbles, darting a glance at Travis from under his eyelashes. Feeling bad now, apparently. Travis doesn't really have the energy to dispute that, even though it seems like Patty might be moving literally just to get away from him. 

So he nods and they go back to playing Halo, although it doesn't feel the same as it did before. 

&&&

It's even worse after the article comes out. Like, Travis knew theoretically that there were reasons Kevin had asked Patty to move in with him, like they get along and whatever. Patty is allowed to have friends that aren't him. But it's a lot to see it written down – that they hang out every day, that Kevin thinks Patty is a great kid, that they're really tight now.

Kevin knows when to back off, the article said. He knows just when to shut up and leave Patty alone, something Travis has never known how to do.

“Hey, do you wanna come over later?” Patty asks after practice. He did good today; still in the no contact jersey but looking good when he skates, smacking himself into the boards just for the fun of it. Travis had missed seeing that look on his face. “You haven't seen the new place yet.”

Travis doesn't turn around.

“Nah,” he says to the ball of tape in his hand. “I've got a thing.” 

He winces at the beat of silence before Patty replies, sounding a little unsure now.

“Yeah, okay,” he says. “Another time, I guess.”

“For sure,” Travis says, turning around and smiling at him.

Patty smiles back, his expression attentive in the way that makes Travis's stomach twist hard. Fuck, he loves Patty so much. This really sucks.

Travis goes home and chills alone, wondering what Patty and Kevin are doing. It's fine living with Sanheim; they enjoy themselves, really. It's nice to hang out with someone without it being like, the be all and end all of Travis's day. He doesn't miss him like he used to miss Patty when one of them goes away, but then he doesn't miss anyone like Patty. He figures it'll pass, eventually.

“Do you think you should like, mention this to him at all?” Lawson asks dryly at the end of another long Facetime discussion, during which Travis can hear himself repeating the same whiny statements – "I just don't get _why"_– over and over without being able to stop it. Whatever. It's Lawson's job as his best friend to listen to these things. He's heard much worse. 

“What, to Patty?” Travis asks, blindsided. He shoves another handful of Doritos in his mouth. “Mr I Love To Have No Feelings?”

“You don't know he has no feelings,” Lawson points out. “I think you're in a position to know more about his feelings than most people, actually, dude.”

Travis chews on this for a minute along with the Doritos.

“But if he wanted to talk to me about it then we would have done it then,” Travis argues. “When he told me.”

“Yeah,” Lawson says gently. “Or he, like. Maybe wanted you to say something, do you think?”

“Say something about what?” Travis asks. 

Lawson sighs. 

It seems like the rest of the guys on the team might be noticing something too, maybe. Not because Travis and Patty are being off with each other – nothing as open and rude as that. Just that they don't hang out as much, don't leave together like they used to. Provy makes a joke about the married couple going through a rough patch and Travis snaps at him, saying they can't exactly carpool when they don't live in the same building anymore. 

The locker room gets kind of quiet after that. Travis is grateful Patty isn't there for it until he remembers Patty isn't there because he has a migraine, and then he feels like shit. 

_remember to take your meds. drink lots of water_, he texts Patty uselessly, just for something to do with his hands while other Travis drives. Kevin is probably reminding Patty about all that stuff anyway. He does seem like a really genuine guy, from what Travis can make out through the layers of jealousy and resentment. Like, really nice. Cares about the other guys on the team, generous with his time and resources. Hell, he didn't even know Patty that well when he invited him to live with him. That's a pretty selfless thing to do. No wonder Patty thought he was the better option. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Sanny asks when they hit a stoplight. “I just said I hate Canada and think fishing is for girls and you like, grunted at me.”

“I'm fine,” Travis says reflexively. He's got to start doing a better job of keeping this to himself. It's not going to help anyone if all he does is stress out about Patty not wanting him anymore, especially when Patty finally starts playing again. That's a whole bunch of tension they don't need fucking up the team. Besides, as he keeps telling himself – he'll get used to it. It's not like he really had Patty before, anyway. 

“Okay,” Sanheim says dubiously, and then pulls a U turn in the middle of the road, causing a cacophony of angry beeping and more than a few shouts. 

“What the fuck,” Travis says, holding onto the door for dear life.

“Buckle up, bitch,” Sanny says. “We're going for ice cream.”

Ice cream is nice. Travis maybe didn't realise how miserable he was until he feels his own face widen in a smile at one of Sanheim's jokes and it feels unfamiliar. 

“Sorry,” he says. “I'm just – kind of going through something right now, it's fine. I don't want to bum everyone out.” 

Sanny sets down his spoon and looks Travis right in the eye.

“I don't want to tell you what to do, man,” he says seriously. “But have you tried just talking to Patty about it?”

Travis buries his face in his hands. 

&&&

It happens kind of accidentally, when they do end up talking about it. Travis goes down hard in the game against Ottawa and lands on his face, and he feels it all the way to his back teeth. It hurts like a bitch. He tries to get up and keep going but he feels like he can hardly breathe. 

By the time he gets through with the medics and back to the locker room, he has twenty-three texts on his phone. Seven are from his mom, two are from his brother, three are from Lawson, and the remaining eleven are from Patty, who was watching from home tonight. 

Travis stares down at the number for a minute until he can get himself under control. He sits down on the bench and shields his eyes with his hand in case anyone else comes in. He shouldn't be looking at screens, the doctor told him. But he has to, now he knows they're there. He has to. 

_shit_, says the first one succinctly. Then _call me after_. Then _don't call me or whatever if you can't_. Then _because of your head_. Then _are you okay?_ Then they just kind of go round in a circle for a while, a refrain that Travis stares at until his vision goes blurry.

He straightens up and clears his throat, swiping at his eyes. He taps out _im fine_ and puts his phone away. Gotta wait for someone to drive him home, after all. 

He doesn't bank on Patty turning up at his apartment literally the next day, his face set in a series of judgmental lines that makes Travis's stomach turn over with delight.

It's just a learned response, he reminds himself. He's in control of this situation! He is in control of his feelings. Anyway, what kind of psycho would have so many warm fuzzies about the way someone glares at them?

“You're not fine,” Patty says, glowering. “I know you're not fine, because you can't do shit with a concussion and you hate doing nothing.”

“So what?” Travis snaps, moving back automatically to let Patty in even though Patty's never been here before and Travis is still mad and Patty might not even want to stay, whatever. Patty brushes past him into the apartment, bumping their shoulders together. “You here to sit on me til my head fixes itself?”

“Yep,” Patty says, strolling through into the living room as if he's been here a thousand times and sitting himself down on the couch. He pats the cushion next to him. “C'mere. Lights out. Curtains drawn.” 

“Which one am I supposed to do first?” Travis asks sarcastically. He's still on the edge of asking Patty to leave, didn't have long enough to think about it before Patty just steamrolled in here. Stupid steamroller.

Sanny comes through from the kitchen and brightens when he sees Patty. 

“Patty!” he says. “Fuck, it's dark in here.”

“Concussion,” Travis reminds him as he draws the curtains, wincing at the last of the light. 

“Oh,” other Travis says, then winces and lowers his voice to a whisper. “Sorry.” He looks at Patty. “Are you here to like, be a support group or something? Hunks with head trauma?”

“Aw, thanks, buddy,” Travis says. Not many people have taken the opportunity to call him a hunk before, for some reason. 

Travis can just make out Patty's head turning as he looks between them. 

“Yeah,” he says eventually. “Support group of two.” 

“Cool,” Sanheim says before clapping Travis on the back. Travis winces. “Well, I'm heading out. Don't wanna disturb the healing.” 

“See you later,” Travis says. Patty waves. 

When they're left alone, there's this weird charged silence like Patty might be about to say something. Travis raises an eyebrow at him as he walks over to the couch, even though Patty won't be able to see it. He feels like he'll be able to tell anyway. 

“What,” he says. 

Patty shakes his head and Travis feels it moving the air in this strange way, now that they're sat next to each other. He hasn't been alone in the same room as Patty for months. Even when they end up talking in the locker room, there's always other people there. Always someone else who can see. 

Patty moves further along the couch and turns his head toward Travis expectantly. Travis just blinks for a minute before he realises what Patty wants and feels his face turning fire engine red. They used to do this sometimes, when one of them was really tired and it was far to bed or they were drunk or something. But it didn't mean anything; never meant what Travis wanted it to mean. 

He moves slowly in case he's misreading it but Patty doesn't stop him, so he carries on down until he's got his head resting in Patty's lap. Try as he might, no matter how bitter he got, Travis had found it difficult to imagine Patty doing this with anyone else. It had felt mean somehow, like he was doing them both a disservice.

“You comfy?” Patty murmurs, stroking Travis's hair. 

Travis nods, hand flat to the side of Patty's thigh. Has he got anymore stupid tattoos since Travis saw him last? Saw him for real. Maybe he has. Maybe Travis can ask, later. 

“Go to sleep,” Patty says gently, still touching him.

Travis screws his eyes shut. This is probably really going to suck later when he thinks about what it actually is versus what he wants it to be, but in the moment he's powerless to stop it. He lets himself drift off, Patty's fingers stroking aimlessly through his hair. 

&&&

Okay, so they don't actually talk about it then. But things do get a little easier after that, like the seal just needed to be broken by Travis getting knocked on his ass and then all the stuff Patty's been repressing for the last couple of months while they weren't really talking just comes flooding out. Travis didn't think Patty was holding anything back because this whole time he's been working on the assumption that Patty didn't _have_ anything to hold back. Travis is the one with the problem here. He's aware. 

But.

“You're looking great this season, bud,” Patty tells him enthusiastically after practice one day. Travis couldn't actually do anything but he wanted to be there anyway, and Patty had frowned about it but maybe he’d spotted the look of desperation in Travis's eye because he'd relented pretty fast. “All those passes to G and Frosty? Sweet.”

Patty's enthusiasm isn't fake, either – he's got his trying-to-emote face on, his cheeks all flushed and his eyes intent. Travis kind of boggles at him for a minute. 

“Thanks,” he says eventually, pretty sure he can hear other Travis snorting behind him. He doesn't turn around. “Just, uh, you know. Getting some good chances.”

“Don't talk yourself down,” G orders, making Travis jump a little. He didn't even know G was there. “The kid's right.” 

Travis can feel his face heating now, mouth pulling up in a smile he can't stop even as he's turning away to strip off, stop everyone looking at him. He never knows what to do in moments like this. Patty sucks at it, too, taking praise. He always used to get all wide eyed and blushy and furious when Travis did it to him, like he was hanging on the edge of every word and about to beg him to stop all at the same time.

Patty keeps up this campaign of positive reinforcement on the drive home, which he is doing because he says he still doesn't trust Travis not to sit quietly by himself and wait for his head to heal. This is fair, because this is not something Travis is capable of doing unless Patty is physically in the room with him, anchoring him to the couch with a part of his body. 

He's invited Travis over to his house a couple more times since they started hanging out again but Travis has begged off each time, citing distance or tiredness or wanting to sleep in his own bed, whatever works. Maybe Patty's just letting him get away with it because he's injured right now but whatever, Travis will take the reprieve. It just feels like it would be too much, somehow, seeing all Patty's stuff spread out over a house that belongs to someone else, mixed in with Kevin's. Travis is trying really hard to be what Patty wants without pushing too far for the sake of what he wants himself, but there's only so much he can stand. He keeps poking at the situation with a stick in his head. One of these days, he'll get there.

&&&

It happens sooner than he'd thought, but maybe it doesn't count because it wasn't actually his idea. It's just that Kevin's enthusiasm for having the guys over – “Filling the entire house with people!” he proclaims joyfully in the locker room – is so infectious, and Travis thinks well, what the hell, maybe it won't be so bad with everyone else there. It would look really weird if he said no after everyone said yes. He'd have to think up a reason that wasn't uncontrollable jealousy or whatever. 

Patty tugs Travis off to the side once they're all over, wanting to show him stuff. Travis lets himself be dragged around the house, wondering if this is what an out of body experience feels like. Definitely not as bad as a concussion, but not exactly fun either. 

They have an auxiliary kitchen for some reason, just a little one next to the fucking four car garage, and Patty leads him down there. Travis leans against the cupboards with his arms folded across his chest, not making eye contact with Patty, waiting for the weight to ease off his chest. He's fine, he's fine, he's going to be fine. He's not sixteen anymore. He can be friends with Patty without making it weird.

“Why did you move out of our place?” he asks, breaking into Patty's monologue about the joys of sharing Kevin's Netflix account. 

Oops. Maybe not. 

Patty's mouth slams shut, his face darkening. 

“What the fuck,” he says, kind of spluttering. “It wasn't our place, it was –”

“Yeah, it was,” Travis argues. “You know it was ours, man. It was _our_ building. I don't understand what I – I don't understand what went wrong.”

Oh, this is bad. The look on Patty's face, it's so bad. But Travis just can't seem to stop himself talking – can't stop it or take it back or anything.

“Because I thought everything was fine and then you just dropped it on me one day,” he continues, helpless. “Telling me you were moving in here when – you didn't even know him, man! What's so great about Kevin that you had to get away from me so bad?” 

Patty doesn't say anything, just stares at him. Travis can only hear his breathing, this far away from the party. It's like they're alone in the world, the whole world.

“Or is that it,” Travis says, so miserable he can't even try and make it sound less sad. “You just wanted out, and it didn't matter where?”

Patty makes an abortive move toward him but he stops at the look on Travis's face.

“I wasn't trying to hurt you,” he says, his voice very level. “I'm sorry, I – I didn't think about it, I didn't –” He swallows. “I didn't think about it enough. I'm sorry.” 

Travis pulls in a shuddering breath and looks away, wrapping his arms around himself. 

“Is it better than living with me?” he mumbles.

Patty's face goes blank. “What?”

“Living with Kevin,” Travis says, louder. Patty heard him, he knows. He's not that dumb. “Is it better than living with me?”

“We never lived together,” Patty says, voice blank. He looks like he's on autopilot, about to crash the fucking plane. 

“Oh my god,” Travis says, and he straightens up to barge out of here and beg a ride home from someone because fuck the look on Patty's face, fuck his absolute surprise – as if Travis hasn't been noticeably miserable for _months_ over this! Travis has been told many times and by many different people – Patty being one of them – that he isn't a subtle person. There's no way Patty didn't see.

But Patty stops him. He lunges across the space between them and grabs Travis's arm and stops him. 

“It's different,” he says, hoarse. “It's not – better.” He seems to struggle before relaxing his grip and letting go. “Can you just chill for a second, man? Like –” He pulls a face. “I'm trying, okay?”

Travis nods jerkily, not really feeling connected to his body. This is such a shitshow anyway, it doesn't matter if he leaves or stays. Just gives Patty more of a chance to hurt him, and Travis has missed out on a couple of months of those. Might as well get his fill. 

“Kev's great,” Patty says eventually. “He's awesome, okay? He's nice and he's friendly and he gets what I'm going through.”

Travis nods again, trapping his retort behind his teeth. He asked for it. He asked Patty to tell him. 

“But he's not –” Patty stops, licking his lips. Travis can't remember ever seeing him look so nervous. “It's not like it was with you, okay? Not – not like it was with us.” 

That gets Travis's attention. He doesn't want it to, but – his heart gives a little rabbit thump.

“What do you mean?” he asks, trying to keep his voice under control.

“Teeks,” Patty starts carefully. He looks down at his own hands. He's struggling so much for words that it gives Travis enough time to figure it out, to spot the missing link that finally, finally makes sense of all this.

“Oh my god,” he says wonderingly. “Patty, really? Oh my god.” 

Patty winces. “It's fine,” he says hurriedly. “I know you don't –”

“Shut up,” Travis cuts him off. He licks his lips, his heart hammering. He feels like a whole fucking swarm of butterflies just got released into his chest cavity. He can't fucking breathe. “Do you – really?”

“I don't even know if we're talking about the same thing,” Patty says, throwing his hands up in the air. “Like. I mean, I'm talking about – how I –”

He stops, obviously physically incapable of getting out the words 'how I feel about you.' Travis decides to help by lunging forward and kissing him.

Patty responds to it immediately, his arms gathering up around Travis like he's been waiting for him to walk into them for months. It feels so much like Travis has been thinking about and pining for that he's smiling into the kiss, a big wide grinning one. He can't stop himself. Patty's so warm, his whole body, God. So big and warm. 

Patty backs Travis up into the cupboards, the counter bumping gently against Travis's back. Patty presses him into it, making Travis scrabble up on his tiptoes trying to get more. 

“I thought you'd hate me,” Patty pants, his big hands framing Travis's face. “I didn't want you to hate me.”

“How the fuck am I going to hate you?” Travis asks, bewildered. “Even when you fucked off I couldn't hate you, God, come here –”

And he pulls Patty back in again, into a long, searching kiss, one where he can thread his fingers through the long hair trailing over the back of Patty's neck.

“Growing a mullet there, bud,” he grins, just to fuck with him. He feels giddy, spinning, like he's about to take off. All their friends are upstairs. Lawson is going to shit a brick when Travis tells him about this. 

“Shut up,” Patty mumbles, ever the king of comebacks. 

“No, I like it,” Travis says. It's not even a lie, although it should be. No one looks good with a mullet, but he honestly thinks Patty would, somehow. Travis is a complex guy; he can hold two contradictory statements in his head at once. “I want you to grow it again, and I want to get my hands in it, and I want to hold your head still while I –”

“There's like, almost an entire team of hockey players upstairs, bud,” Patty says, but his voice is fucking weak. If Travis dropped to his knees right now, he doesn't think Patty would have a hope in hell of stopping him. 

So he does. 

Patty sucks in a sharp breath, bracing both hands on the kitchen counter and staring down at Travis on his knees with his hands wrapped around Patty's hips. 

Travis raises his eyebrows. 

“Yeah?” he asks, leaning in and nuzzling at the hard line of Patty's dick through his pants. This isn't even anywhere near the list of his top ten bad ideas. This might be the best idea he's ever had. 

“Yeah,” Patty breathes, his hips hitching a little forward. Travis palms his own dick and shifts around on his knees, feeling his mouth water. “I mean – we can go slower, if you –”

“Nope,” Travis cuts him off, unzipping Patty's jeans and pulling his pants down. “Don't wanna go slower, wanna go right this fucking fast.”

“Okay,” Patty says, sounding really fucking winded.

He makes this amazing noise when Travis sinks down on his cock, takes him in deep. Probably too far when it's been a long fucking time since he did this, but it feels too good to stop. He's wanted Patty's dick in his mouth for literal years, there's absolutely no way he's willing to exert any self-control now he actually has it. 

He gropes around behind him for one of Patty's hands and unlatches it from his iron grip on the kitchen counter, pulling it down to his head and encouraging Patty to grip with wide eyes. Patty stares down at him and squeezes his hand tight, slowly, until it makes Travis's eyes fall closed as he sucks. 

Patty gets with what Travis is asking him to do pretty quick and starts thrusting into his mouth shallowly, making a noise of disbelief when Travis unzips his own pants and starts jerking himself off. 

“God, you look hot,” Patty says, staring down at Travis, voice full of gravel. “Fuck, dude.”

Travis makes a groaning noise meant to indicate he's in the same boat, which apparently really does it for Patty because his eyes go wide and startled and he kind of chokes. It's good that Travis gets warning of him about to come because otherwise he wouldn't have been able to swallow quite so efficiently, and he was really focused on getting to do that. It’s one of his favourite parts.

He pulls off Patty's dick gasping, his own hand flying over his dick for the last couple of jerks before he comes with Patty staring down at him, still looking completely stunned.

Travis falls back against the cupboard doors and groans. 

“Jesus,” he says. “That's the best house party sex I've ever had.” 

Patty bursts out laughing, surprised, as he sinks to the floor next to Travis. They're gonna need a fucking crane down here to get him back up. 

“But I didn't even do anything for you,” he says. He isn't looking at Travis as he says it, just reaching out and tangling his fingers in the cords of Travis's hoodie. “I wanted –”

“Whatever you want, you can have,” Travis says, without thinking at all. Maybe he'll be embarrassed about that level of transparency later and maybe he won't be. Who cares? It's true. 

Patty laughs again, planting his face in his hands. 

“I'm serious,” Travis says, deciding to double down and turning sideways to face Patty fully. He hasn't seen him laugh like this for months, full-bodied and helpless; it's like drinking a health potion or something. Travis can physically feel it making him brighter. “Whatever you want from me, man, you can have it.”

Patty looks at Travis through his fingers, still smiling. 

“Alright,” he says. “Same, I guess. Obviously.” 

“_Obviously_,” Travis mocks, then flops back against the cupboard doors again with an exaggerated sigh. “We gotta go back up there,” he thinks out loud. Urgh. Their clothes are all sex-mussed and he definitely got come on his hoodie. He wonders how far plausible deniability can possibly stretch, but he's always been kind of fuzzy about that concept anyway. A problem for another time. “Have you got like, kitchen towel down here? I think we should pretend we got lost. Do you think G's going to –”

“In a minute,” Patty mumbles, and Travis shuts up as Patty nudges his face around with the tip of one finger for another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> literally everyone knows what they were doing down there lol


End file.
